The Keeper
by Alania Black
Summary: 29 OCAUHPSM: OWRW. Ron Weasley has finally landed himself his dream job as Reserve Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. Even better, he’s training under his childhood hero, Oliver Wood. If only “under” wasn’t so literal...


This is part 29of the OFFICIAL CHIBI ALANIA UNWRITTEN HARRY POTTER SLASH MONTH!

_This month, from Monday July 11th 2005 until Tuesday August 9th 2005, I am having an Unwritten Harry Potter Slash Month - I have found 30 different Harry Potter slash couples that have 3 or less fics written about them in and each day, I will post a one-shot fic about that couple._

_1 month: 30 days: 30 couples: 30 fics: 1 author._

_Now, for the fun part! On the 31st August, one person who has shown me support and encouragement will find a lovely little email in their inbox offering them a fantastic prize for their support._

_So, review (leave email addresses if you haven't logged in, please), give me support and ye shall receive threefold!_

And today we have Mr. Ronald Weasleyand Mr. Oliver Wood.

So, on with the fic!

WARNINGS: Random grown men shagging a lot in a universe much different to canon.

DISCLAIMER: I only own things where the plotlines don't have more swings than Harry's mood and the pairings seem believable and slightly more diverse than a five year age difference. (Yes, that is supposed to be a joke, considering the very nature of this personal challenge.)

SUMMARY: #29; OCAUHPSM: OW/RW. Ron Weasley has finally landed himself his dream job as Reserve Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. Even better, he's training under his childhood hero, Oliver Wood. If only "under" wasn't so literal...

NOTE: So, it's nearing midnight, and I've had one glass too many of red wine, I think. I also will probably not get to post this until tomorrow, but I'm trying. This weekend has been one thing after another, and this looks to be about the only chance I have to write. I am so glad this is over tomorrow!

Well, no I'm not, but you try writing a fic every single day for an entire month! Actually, anyone who adopts this idea or starts writing about their own unusual pairing, you _have_ to tell me! Email me, I love hearing from people!

The Keeper. (I've begun to discover that my titles have become a little repetitive and not at all attractive. My summaries aren't brilliant either. And I can't rely on my charms and god looks to get people to read these... no wonder I have no reviews! Well, maybe I should post it before expecting those, yeah?)

Ron finally had his dream job. He was now the new Reserve Keeper on the Chudley Cannons, and was working with newly promoted Oliver Wood, who had just become Keeper. Ron was more than happy about this development, Oliver Wood had been his hero since his First Year at Hogwarts, and the newly graduated Gryffindor had never really gotten over his little crush on the former Gryffindor Captain.

Oliver was born to lead, or at least that is how Ron saw it. He didn't think Oliver could be truly happy if he wasn't leading his team to victory, Quidditch was like oxygen to the man. Ron never really stopped to think about whether Oliver's obssessiveness was healthy as he spent time getting to know and working with his new team mate. He simply understood that this was Oliver's way, and since the Cannons had never been as successful in all the time Ron had been a fan, Ron wasn't about to argue with him.

There were some on the team that felt differently. Ron knew that the Beaters, at least, didn't like Oliver's ways. Oliver had become the Coach's new best friend rather soon after joining the team, and all Ron heard for the first two weeks was bitching that Oliver seriously needed to get laid, or rumours that Oliver _was_ getting laid, with the Coach, and that was why he was the favourite. Ron found himself disliking the vindictive Beaters more and more, but he also couldn't help watching Oliver's interaction with the Coach for signs that there was something other than a professional relationship there.

It was well into the third week of Ron's new job when Oliver approached him. Ron had been watching the Keeper from a distance; the reserves usually didn't have a lot of contact with their permanent counterparts. That was why he was quite surprised when Oliver offered to go over a few drills with him while the Coach worked on the Beaters and the Chasers worked on strategy.

The drills were hard and tiring, but Ron had never felt better as he and Oliver tried their hardest to break through each other's defences. They worked like this for over an hour before the Coach called them all together and sent them home for the day. As they were leaving, Oliver caught up with Ron.

"Hey, Ron, I was wondering if you fancied getting a drink once we're changed, discuss strategy." He leaned in conspiratorially and said quietly, "The others think I'm obsessed. You don't, do you?" Ron giggled a little, nerves and happiness bubbling up as he shook his head. Ron though _he_ was insane, but Oliver seemed perfectly normal.

Ron tried to ignore the knowing looks and sneaky glances in his direction as he changed, and the little glare the Coach shot in his direction as he leaned against the outer wall and waited for Oliver. Oliver came out a few minutes later, towelling his hair dry. He grinned at Ron and led the way to a small pub around the corner.

Oliver managed to drink his way through several Gillywaters (ignoring Ron's hysterical outburst at his apparent predilection for the rather feminine drink.). During the course of his third, Oliver began telling Ron all about his love life. It started at the end, Oliver explaining how his most recent relationship with Mark, one of the Beaters on their team. Ron had to laugh - Mark and Luke (who were as close to each other as Fred and George were), had been the ones bad-mouthing Oliver, and Mark was the only one Oliver had been shagging on the team. Oliver had, quite coherently, explained that Mark hadn't been working out, so he'd broken up with him. Apparently, Mark had taken it badly, and bitterly assumed that Oliver had left him for the Coach, and began spreading the lies as a way to get back at his ex-lover. It wasn't such a coherent Oliver that told Ron about his first relationship - with Ron's older brother, Percy. By the time Oliver had finished that story (and his fourth drink), he was slurring quite a bit. During the course of his fifth Gillywater, Oliver briefly told Ron about a one-night stand with Marcus Flint on the night before their last ever game against each other, and a two-week relationship with a fan when he was with Puddlemere United last year.

Ron, in return (and because he was on his fourth Mead, and they were bloody strong) told Oliver, through an embarrassed blush, that he had had one relationship, a two-year relationship with Hermione that had ended at the same level they had started at, only now she knew Ron was gay and he knew she'd been seeing Harry behind his back for the last six months. The three of them had only repaired their damaged relationship a few months ago when Harry had asked Ron to be Godfather to their soon-to-be-born son.

By the time they had decided to stumble home, both were horribly drunk. Ron's new apartment was just around the corner, so he and Oliver walked there, with the intention of Oliver (who would have splinched himself whilst trying to apparate) could use his Floo to get home.

Ron reflected vaguely that their plan had somehow gone awry when he woke up in bed next to a naked Oliver Wood with a monstrous hangover and a frightening lack of memory. He scampered out of bed, escaping to the bathroom. One cold shower and hangover potion later, Ron sighed in relief as his memory returned. _Please let me stay, Ron._ Ron almost laughed, how was he supposed to have thrown Oliver out when he was already naked and half-asleep in his bed? _Fine, but you're not taking my bed. And if you're sleeping naked, then so am I!_ Ron cringed, the idea had seemed perfectly acceptable to his alcohol-soaked brain, but now that he was fully aware, he thought that it was definitely _not_ his best idea. Especially if he was going to wake up naked and aroused.

"I am _never_ drinking again." A soft Scottish brogue caught his ear. It was quiet, pitched low enough that it wouldn't hurt Oliver's hangover. Ron turned and blushed. Oliver obviously thought that they had... Well, he wasn't ashamed of how he looked, judging by the fact that he was strolling, completely nude, up to Ron, a sated little glow in his eyes. He definitely had the look of someone who was with his lover, not a team mate.

Ron averted his gaze back to his bacon and eggs, offering Oliver a hangover potion and directing him to the shower. He was cut short when Oliver kissed and sucked lightly on the back of his neck, arms wrapping around his waist.

"Aren't you going to say hi properly?" He whispered in his ear. Ron shivered, wishing he wasn't as attracted to Oliver as he was right now. It was dangerously hard to push the desire to give Oliver the hello he was looking for to the back.

"Yeah, when you're fully sober and recovered from the hangover. And washed, for that matter." Oliver snorted and with one last kiss, headed for the shower.

Ron had just settled down to have his breakfast - a plate all ready and under a warming spell for Oliver when the Scotsman came back into the kitchen. He smiled sheepishly at Ron and looked down at his plate, blushing a little.

"I, ah, I'm sorry... about earlier. I just assumed..."

"Don't worry, I did too. I was quite panicked for a while there." Ron noticed the flash of hurt on Oliver's face, and hurried to soothe it. "Oh no, I didn't mean... Look, I'm... You know I've never slept with a man before. I would rather my first time be when I'm sober, and preferably when I know it won't be an awkward one-night stand. It's nothing against you, you're quite gorgeous, I assure you." Oliver looked up, a sparkle of happiness in his eyes.

"Really?" He asked, a grin blooming across his face. Ron smiled back, a little awkward now.

"Yeah, really."

Ron was glad when they both left to go to work. It had been a bit weird after the misunderstanding, and the feel of Oliver softly sucking the back of his neck continued to haunt him through the day.

Ron was, however, quick to accept Oliver's invitation for another night out, but informed him that Oliver would _not_ spend the night naked in his bed again unless he was willing to pay. Oliver had winked at him, a seductive smirk gracing his lips.

"I could pay you the same way I did this morning, I'm sure you'll be willing to put _up_ with me for one more night." Ron had flushed, but agreed to go with Oliver anyway. Neither of them missed the glare the Coach - who had obviously overheard at least a little of their conversation - shot at them. Ron resolved to ask Oliver about that later.

Oliver drank a straight shot of Whiskey before starting on his Gillywater. Ron smiled sympathetically at him.

"Bad day?" Oliver snorted.

"Oh, no, it was fantastic. I woke up in bed next to one of my team mates, sexually assaulted him and them I had to spend the rest of the day watching him as he flew around flaunting himself in front of me." Ron looked away to avoid the intense look in Oliver's eyes.

"You didn't sexually assault anyone, Oliver. Look, this morning was an accident, you thought we'd slept together; of course you wouldn't just act as if we were nothing but colleagues. Look, it's not like you fancy me so - oh. Oh!" Ron's ear turned red, but he managed to keep the redness in that area. Oliver, however, wasn't as lucky.

"It's nothing." He hastened to persuade Ron. "It's just... You're really attractive, that's part of the reason I was so willing to assume we'd..." Oliver trailed off, and Ron giggled a little.

"Well, I find you attractive as well. Believe me, I had a hard time stopping myself from kissing you this morning." Oliver grinned, looking very happy.

"Why didn't you?"

"It wouldn't have been fair on you. Taking advantage of you in your weakened state and all that. Gryffindor, remember. Although, assuming you'd taken advantage of a drunken virgin, I'm not sure I want to know your take on Gryffindor virtue." Oliver glared at him.

"I will have you know you were a lot less drunk than I was. If anything, you would have been taking advantage of _me_."

"Prove it." Oh, Ron was going to regret that in the morning.

: :

Well, this was vaguely familiar, Ron thought. He wasn't sure if his arse hurt as much the day before, but being once again naked in bed next to Oliver, he really didn't want to explore it.

Before he could do anything, however, a warm breath tickled his ear.

"I'm completely recovered, and I know exactly what happened last night," A soft kiss was dropped onto his shoulders. This wasn't a good sign for his virginity. Oliver had, thoughtfully, brought the hangover potion with him when he came back to bed. Ron swallowed it quickly and chased it with a breath freshener spell. Anything else he may want to do, however, was lost to Oliver's tongue.

So maybe losing his virginity to Oliver wasn't a _complete_ disaster.

: :

They finally got out of bed an hour later, and went to work. It wasn't until he was actually sitting on his broom, ready to kick off, that Ron encountered his next obstacle. The activities the previous night, and this morning, had left him rather tender in that area. However, he couldn't ask the coach if he could skip practice or go to the nurse - for one thing, the Coach was so jealous of him he'd probably make him suffer just to spite him. So Ron decided to grit his teeth and bare it, although Oliver was seriously going to pay him back later on.

By the time practice was finished, Ron just wanted to curl up and never move again. Even walking shot agony through his body, although it was fading pretty quickly. Oliver was coming over again tonight, and Ron was going to make dinner. Although they'd had sex again that morning, they hadn't really had a chance to talk about their relationship. If things went well, Ron was hoping that they would spend the rest of the weekend (it was Friday, finally!) decidedly _not_ talking.

He knew that he was being glared at again when he left, and this time he turned and shot a victorious look at the Coach, before slipping his hand in Oliver's and apparating away.

: :

As Ron had hoped, once dinner was finished, talking was really the last thing on Oliver's mind. Ron had complained about having a sore arse the entire day, and Oliver had winked at him over their ice cream and promised to kiss it better later. Ron wasn't entirely sure what Oliver meant by that, but the glimmer in his eye promised that it would lead to a lot more sex, so he didn't care.

He knew the Coach was extremely jealous and probably hated him by now. He also knew that the beaters both loved him (Mark had come up to him when they were changing for practice and thanked him from saving Oliver from the clutches of that "evil boyfriend stealing scarlet bastard" and promptly divulged as much information about Oliver's erogenous zones as he could manage in five minutes.), and that if he chose to, he could have the Coach fired, so he wasn't entirely worried about it.

He also knew that planning a weekend of sex was a bit much when you'd only just lost your virginity to the man who was "kissing your arse better" the day before. But, as with most things regarding Oliver Wood, he adopted his "don't think about it and just enjoy it" policy. It seemed to be working pretty well.


End file.
